All things Sherlolly
by Zora Arian
Summary: 5-sentenced ficlets inspired by songs played in shuffle mode - doses of Sherlolly fluff (and drama) in bite-sized proportions :3
1. Chapter 1

I somehow had this compulsion to make one of these little ficlets inspired by songs, so this is my version of it. Basically, I put my music playlist on shuffle and listened to the first five songs, and made a little ficlet of each song in 5 sentences - my sentences are really, really long, ahaha...

I don't know if I'll make a second chapter to this, because it's just all sorts of random little ficlets, but if I ever have the time, or if any one of you would like to know more about my music taste, I'll consider :) But right now I gotta rush because I have to get out of my home in half an hour's time to go to work, and I did this just about an hour ago?! I apologise for any horrible mistakes, but I still hope you like this little thing (or things :3) :DDD

* * *

_**Part-Time Lover - Stevie Wonder**_

Sherlock stared intently at Molly sitting opposite him at the table; beside her, the nuisance of a man who's-it-face cackled out loud at what the pathologist - his pathologist, his part-time lover (as she wanted them to call each other as such) - was saying.

Molly giggled with him as Sherlock felt a small hand run up his arm; internally groaning at the blatant display for attention, he schooled his face into an expression of wonder at his date, Shelly Wuthering (or was it Williams?), who was looking at him under her lashes.

They talked about banal things and communicated with Molly and who's-it-face for another hour of this double date suggested by Shelly before they all left the restaurant; Sherlock could barely refrain himself from growling at the way who's-it-face had his hand much too low on Molly's small back.

"I had a good night, Sherlock," Shelly said as all four of them made their goodbyes to each other outside the restaurant, with Shelly and who's-it-face taking the same cab home; she tiptoed on her high heels to plant a lingering kiss on Sherlock's lips as she whispered against his mouth, "Call me."

"Can we stop keeping up pretenses, Molly?" Sherlock whined as they watched the cab leave the curb, and he turned to Molly with a glare, who in turn gave him a small smile; he invaded her personal space as he whispered, one finger running along her jaw to her decidedly-not-small lips, "I am all ready to enter a relationship with you - have been telling you so for the past month - and I told no more 'part-times', yet you make us go through all this; who's-it-face is going to shag Shelly when they get home, and I don't care to call her back - all I want is to shag you when we get home, and I want to call you back."

* * *

**_I remember you - Skid Row_**

Being alone in the dank darkness of the room he was taking refuge in, Sherlock sat on the floor leaning against the wall as he watched the rain fell through the dirty window that led to the outside world.

If anyone were to ever ask him how it was to be dead when he came back, the first thing that would always, would never fail, to pop into his mind would be 'lonely'.

There was no one here with him physically, what with his official status being 'dead to the world' - but he knew that there was one person other than his brother who knew of his status being otherwise.

Before he left, he kept the words she had said to him and held them close to his heart; those words kept him from being too lonely, kept him going on through the mission of dismantling the criminal network, and made him realise that there would always be someone with him - mentally.

"I remember you too, Molly Hooper."

* * *

**_The Secret of my Success - Night Ranger_**

"Sherlock, you are too much enthusiastic about these cases," Molly tut-ed at her husband after they - rather, he - solved yet another baffling serial killer case for the Yarders; Sherlock had been gushing about how smart the criminal was this time round and the riddles he had left for the police that had them in a twist before they decided to bring in the Consulting Detective.

Sherlock turned his head to the right and, looking down at her, winked. "You love me just like that, don't lie."

"You're a blazing ball of inappropriate energy and interest in such things, you know, and yet you're successful."

"I know - and you love my energy because you love how passionate I am towards keeping these sick bastards behind bars, with me putting in the hours and intellect to chasing and catching them; that is the secret to my success."

Smiling proudly at her husband, Molly pulled him back by the arm to stop him from walking; he obeyed and closed his eyes as he felt the soft press of his wife's lips against his jaw as she murmured affectionately, "Your passion turns me on greatly."

* * *

**_Leader of the band - Dan Fogelberg_**

Sherlock sat in his armchair as he ran his bow across the rosin in his left hand; his violin laid resting against his chest, with it moving up and down gently in time with his breathing.

Molly watched him and his ritual of rosining his bow and tuning up his violin, mesmerised by his gentle handling of the wooden instrument.

"I was never initially interested in the violin," Sherlock said softly, watching his bow move up and down, and gave a small smile to Molly before he continued, "My parents registered me into violin lessons before I could even walk properly, and during my early years I resented playing it - I would throw tantrums and skip lessons, just like any other boy at that age would do."

Molly blinked at him, imagining a rebellious 8-year-old Sherlock Holmes grabbing at a doorknob to prevent entry into a music room; she chuckled as she asked, "What made you continue playing it, until now, though?"

Sherlock stopped all movements and put down his bow on the coffee table right in front of him; he adjusted the position of the violin to rest in the cradle of his right elbow as he looked down at it with a wistful expression while saying in a rather soft voice, still not entirely confident of showing emotions to the woman seated near him, "My violin instructor had the passion for playing the violin, and I eventually saw it - I saw how much he put his soul into it, and I found out that I could do the same; whatever words or emotions I cannot say to anyone, to you, I have another avenue to express them through - my violin."

* * *

**_Accidentally in Love - Counting Crows_**

"What's the problem?"

Snapping out from his reverie, Sherlock blinked at Molly, her face much too close to his own; her head reeled back once those blue-green eyes were on focus and were staring back at her.

"Sorry! You were- you look spaced out, but not Mind-Palace spaced out, so I thought you would need some prompting to focus or anything or-" she rambled nervously.

Sherlock watched her talked, her face flushed red with embarrassment, her eyes brown and bright with intelligence, her dainty hands flailing around her sides in a normal reaction to nervousness; he gave a small smile and leaned in to her, effectively cutting off her words as he got ready to confess the one thing that had been plaguing his mind ever since he truly saw Molly Hooper.

"I'm accidentally in love."


	2. Chapter 2

I felt like doing another chapter on this, so yay - here are five more little ficlets! Thank you to **jankmusic**, **16magnolias**, **Rebekah Kroeplin** and **LadyK1138** for the reviews on the first chapter, and for the small amount of **favs** this has so far:3 I actually like that some of you told me which little ficlet was your fav - mine is the Leader of The Band's, because as a trumpeter, I love playing the trumpet, and continue to do so because I aspire to be as great as my senior (who I had a little crush on during my secondary school band days, shh) - oh, did you know that Ben C used to play the trumpet as well? (where did you think he got that plump bottom lip from? ;)) That is also another reason why I continue to play the trumpet :3

Sorry, rambling again. This is the second chapter - I would love it if you'd tell my which is your favourite, cos mine is the last one :3 I hope you enjoy reading this! :DDD

* * *

**_High Enough - Damn Yankees_**

Molly Hooper sat on the sofa and hid her face in her hands, doing her best to keep the tears at bay again; her shoulders, however, continued to shook, and soon the dam broke.

She thought they were doing well, her and Sherlock; she thought that whatever that was between them would develop into something she could finally call a relationship.

But one accidental, affectionate word of 'baby' to address him and they argued, about how he was not going to call their...whatever it was, a relationship, and her finally slapping him in the face, shouting at him that she could not go on like that forever, that she would finally move on from him no matter what because she wanted what he had avoided for years and they could not come to a compromise - she left with a quiet 'goodnight' after the extortion of her energy towards telling him that she would leave him alone, at last.

That was more than two weeks ago; since then, Molly had been getting calls from colleagues and friends asking after her - for such a quiet person, she sure had a gossip-worthy life, she thought bitterly.

She was trying to move on because that man just made her heart ache, and she doubted that he would feel the same; unbeknownst to her, said man was standing outside her apartment's front door every night for the past two weeks, listening to her cry, still gathering the courage to tell her to not leave him, to get her to say that she would stay with him forever - just like she used to say before.

* * *

**_Love of my life - Queen_**

Watching a couple walk past by her, with the man's arm around his woman's shoulder and her leaning up to plant a mischievous peck on his jaw, Molly dropped her eyes down and willed the tears not to fall.

Was it so hard to ask for a normal love life, one that would eventually lead to a life of marriage and children?

But, no; Fate decided to make things difficult - with her eventual broken engagement to Tom, the man she honestly thought she would marry - and near impossible - with her crush on the not-dead consulting detective Sherlock Holmes.

She supposed that it could no longer be called a crush on that insufferable git, because even after knowing him for more than three years (including the two-year hiatus he took) in which she saw a lot of his personality and went through those days when he did not make things easy on her life, she still saw the goodness in him and those rare flashes of vulnerability and loneliness when he still thought she could not see him.

She knew what this feeling was called - love - and until she could take back her heart she had unknowingly placed in his hands, she knew she would continue to love him in spite of his faults and flaws.

* * *

**_Back in Black - AC/DC_**

John Watson's reaction to his resurrection was quite expected - look of angry disbelief followed by a punch on the face - but what was not expected was the number of times he would be throttled by the small man who definitely packed a punch (third time was the charm); nonetheless, Sherlock Holmes took them in reluctant stride, knowing deep down that his valued friend missed him a lot, as did he.

Graham Lestrade was still in the habit being unaware of his surroundings, Sherlock had thought, shaking his head in disappointment as he watched the inspector dig into his pockets for the lighter; maybe if he nicked Gavin's police car next, would he even notice?

A screaming angry Mrs Hudson with a pot in hand - not a good combination if anyone were to ever ask him; he could confidently say so through experience.

Those were the main three people he had every intention to reveal himself to in that order before the public caught wind of him rising from the dead with terrible puns as headlines - he internally cringe at the possibility of a 'Holmes sweet Holmes' top-story headline.

But before he even went to John, Sherlock recalled the experience of going to the person other than Mycroft who knew he was alive, and telling her that he was coming back from the dead - he remembered the feel of her short frame against his larger one as she gave him a huge hug, of how she fitted so perfectly against him; he had missed that feeling when she gave him one before he went on his mission, and was unashamedly waiting to experience it again when he could finally go back home.

* * *

**_Because we can - Bon Jovi_**

Molly watched from the threshold of the kitchen as Sherlock fidgeted in his seat on her sofa; her eyes softened at his nervousness - he was a confident man, one who was always so sure about his thoughts and actions, and could turn any situation to his advantage.

Except when said thoughts, actions and situation involved the use of sentiment.

He had just confessed to her about how she was plaguing the hallways of his Mind Palace, how she was there at the corner of his eyes everywhere he looked, how she seemed to dominate his thoughts at the quietest of time; as he had rambled on about how he had tried to get her off his thoughts - to banish her from his mind - but his attempts never failed to fail, she had rested a tiny hand on his arm, effectively shutting him up, and gave a feather light kiss on the side of his jaw before going to the kitchen to make them both tea.

Once he felt eyes on him, Sherlock turned his head to look at Molly, who took it as her cue to move to him; putting down their mugs of tea, she took his hands and whispered, "All I'm asking for you is to please consider trusting me, and I you, and we can make this happen - because we can."

Immediately pulling her into him, making her slam gently into his chest, he crushed his lips to her; the mugs of tea turned cold well into the night and the next day.

* * *

**_Yakety Sax - Benny Hill_**

"No, no - come back here, Edward!"

Molly Holmes looked behind her for a moment upon hearing the deep baritone of a shout before turning back to perusing the box of cereal she was holding on to, wondering if her 8-year-old son and man-child of a husband would like it because she was eager to try out the new brand.

"Edward, stop running, for God's sake, and give that back to me - I'm getting old already and I have no energy left to spare to run after you!"

"But Daddy, you used to chase after criminals in your day, you told me - I don't see why you can't catch me; besides, Mummy told me you were slacking on the armchair again, and that you look like you gained weight - haha, Daddy is fat! - so I thought I would do you a favour and get you to chase after me as exercise!"

"I sometimes wonder why you have my brains - and I'm not fat!"


	3. Chapter 3

Yay I'm back with five more little ficlets ^-^ It's been a blast to write - I've never felt this good about writing ever since early last year, and I'm hoping the good feeling will stay with me for a while longer because I really want to continue writing and letting little ideas in my brain come to life through words :)

Thank you to **LadyK1138** again, and **Rocking the Redhead** and **Truly Sherlockian** for taking the time to review :3 These are still random and very short ficlets, so I hope you enjoy reading them :DDD

* * *

_**Here I Come Again - Damn Yankees**_

It was extremely risky, Sherlock Holmes being here in the open with no cover other than a hoodie and a pair of black shades, with him fleeting through London's familiar streets as if he was not dead to the world; he was - had been for the past two months - but he was not dead to the few people that helped him to fake his death.

Stopping outside a building, he then made his way to its alleyway, looking up and staring at one particular window on the third floor.

The shadowed figure belonging to a person of slight build walked past the window, and he greedily took in the sight of the normality of her life she was living because he knew he could not have such a thing - not until he was done with his mission.

Until then, he had to be content with watching the woman who counted from a far spot, unwilling to bring danger to her if he visit her - no matter how much he missed her company, her compassion, her warmth and touches.

The mission was hard, with it doing substantial injury to his nerves and emotions and physicality so far; what kept him going was the knowledge that Molly Hooper placed her trust in him, trusted that he would eventually come back - and come back he would.

* * *

**_Old Time Rock And Roll - Bob Seger_**

Leaning against the entrance of the kitchen, Molly watched with an amused expression at the argument currently going on between her teenaged son and husband in the living room; she felt a tug on her skirt and looked down to see her 8-year-old daughter grinning up at her.

"Brother Edward and Daddy are still fighting over whose music is better, aren't they?" Lily asked, looking at the two older men slapping their hands to their own foreheads when the other disagreed with his opinion.

"Yes they are, honey - such a pity that Daddy prefers orchestra pieces to Metallica."

"Mummy, what music do you like? I like Barbie!"

Smiling down at her daughter, Molly picked her up and made her way past the bickering males to her iPod; scrolling through her playlist, she said, "And I love Barbie too, darling, but let's hear a little of The Beatles music, hmm?"

* * *

**_A tale as old as time - Beauty and the Beast_**

John Watson watched the slow dance happening between the two of his closest friends; he smiled fondly when Sherlock leaned in to whisper something into Molly's ear and she slapped him lightly on the arm as a small reprimand, with him chuckling in return.

Mary Watson sidled up to his side, leaning up to give him a peck on the cheek as greeting before following his gaze to the couple on the dance floor.

"They really do complement each other, don't they?" Mary commented softly, feeling her eyes water just a little at the sight of the two of them dancing slowly, at how gentle he was holding her to his person and how she gazed back at him with pure affection.

"I am just so happy for Sherlock and Molly," John said just as soft before continuing, "Molly could have anyone else, but she stayed for him - still always looking past his exterior and digging deep into the heart of the man many say he doesn't have.

"Sherlock's always going on about how he prefers to be alone, but now that she has found a way to be in his heart - to be his heart - and he finally sees her, I think he prefers to be alone with her, and I'm very happy with that."

* * *

**_Desperado - The Eagles_**

Laughing at the joke her fiancé was making, Molly dabbed at her eyes to wipe away the tears of mirth; at the corner of her eyes, she noticed Sherlock being approached by a young female guest of the party hosted by the Holmes' family that everyone in the mansion was attending.

When Tom volunteered to get both of them more drinks and treats, Molly nodded at him with a smile, watching his retreating form disappear as she unconsciously dropped said smile almost immediately.

Hearing the familiar deep rumble of a voice behind her, she turned around to see that Sherlock was now a lot more closer to where she was seated; the woman who went up to him was still talking to him, with a bright smile climbing quickly on her face when whatever she said had made the man before her chuckle.

Molly turned back to the table she was seated at, swallowing down the bitter taste of jealousy and hurt welling up in her throat; she had no right to be envious of Sherlock and his date tonight - she had Tom and they were engaged and would be getting married soon and they loved each other, right?

Hearing Sherlock talk behind her, with a hint of amusement and interest that she had longed for a long time would be directed at her during their interactions, she sniffed once and blinked back the tears that threatened to fall - Sherlock Holmes was an amazingly brilliant man whom she only had a crush on - not love, she told herself for one last time - so it was time to let go; it was time for her to love somebody else and have that somebody love her back before it was too late, for she knew that person would never be Sherlock Holmes.

* * *

**_Ode to a Nightingale - John Keats_**

"You know that your voice is a turn-on, don't you?"

His interest piquing at the rather odd question directed at him, Sherlock looked up from his phone to raise an eyebrow at Molly, who was sitting at John's chair opposite him, face red with the confession she had just made with her head bowed down in slight embarrassment and hands placed stiffly on her lap.

"Oh is it, really?" he drawled, immediately stopping whatever he was doing with his phone to instead pocket it as he crossed a leg over the other and laid his arms across his armchair's armrests.

Feeling the need to explain herself, Molly blinked rapidly as she looked back up to meet his eyes head-on while confessing, "Well, your voice is a really deep rumble that resonates through my body whenever you talk, with its rough gravelly undertone giving it a sense of ruggedness, and when you sigh it sounds like a growl..."

Sherlock stopped her with a hand, putting down the leg to have both of his feet on the ground, and crooked his fingers in a 'come hither' motion at her - obeying his orders, Molly padded her way to stand in front of him, and felt herself being pulled forwards by the arm to settle in his lap; she was pressed into his chest, her cheek against the cool material of his silk dressing gown, as a hand slowly made its way up underneath her shirt while a soft, very deep male voice whispered into her ear, "My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains my senses as though of hemlock I had drunk or emptied some dull opiate to the drains..."


	4. Chapter 4

Whoo, this seems to be a chapter-a-day thing - I have about 195 songs in my playlist, but I doubt I'll go through all of them O.o There were some songs I've skipped so far because it was hard to do its story in a Sherlolly context; maybe when I finally wrap up this little chaptered story I'll put down a list of the songs I did not get to write a ficlet (drabble?) of.

Oh, also - I think I'll add in the genre 'Drama' as well for this story, and just to be safe (because there are references to substance use in this chapter) I'll up the rating to T; hmm, maybe I'll start to add in some naughty context as well while I'm at it ;) Speaking of naughty, there's a bonus ficlet this time because I didn't realise I had five already while I was doing it, but the song was too fun for me to just stop writing, so there are six here :D

Sorry, enough of my rambling - thank you to **ashlanielle**, **darthsydious**, **Rocking the Redhead** again, **Empress of Verace** and **Truly Sherlockian** again for taking the time to send in a little review! If you're following this story, thank you so much for giving this randomised-ficlet-music-story-thing a go, and I hope you all enjoy reading this! :DDD

* * *

**_Carry on my wayward son - Kansas_**

Sherlock Holmes was a man who did everything he put his mind to and was rarely ashamed of what he did - whether they be inappropriate behaviour at a crime scene or interrupting his best friend's never-ending date nights.

Being a consulting detective - the only one who held the title because it was a job he himself invented - he made the rules, and followed them at his own discretion; one of them meant putting his life in the line of target, and he was not worried about it.

It gave him the adrenaline he craved - the thrill of the chase, with the blood pumping through his veins, was one of the best feelings he could ever experience and ever asked for.

He led a dangerous life, a wild thrilling one - he lived for the action, never one to be tied down to the monotony that was 'ordinary' life, with its average jobs and average issues and average problems.

But at the end of the day, there was only ever a few people to keep him right, to make sure that he did not stray too much in his exciting life to the point of no return, and though he loathed to admit it verbally, he acknowledged their presence and roles in his life and appreciated the fact that they had stuck as long as they had with him: John Watson - best friend, Mrs Hudson - long-suffering landlady, DI George Lestrade - vessel of boredom elimination, Mycroft Holmes - ever irritating but useful older brother, and Molly Hooper - the woman who could see him.

* * *

**_More than Words - Extreme_**

Hearing the bedroom door creak open, Molly Holmes glanced up from the book she was reading before going back to it, all the while addressing the newcomer with a smile on her face, "Welcome home, darling."

There was the sound of barely audible rustling before the other side of the bed where she was not resting her back against the headboard on dipped underneath a heavy but familiar weight; feeling an arm wrap itself around her waist and a rather sharp chin resting against her shoulder, she smiled and turned her head to press a chaste kiss on the forehead of her husband.

He hummed appreciatively in response to her greeting and hugged her tighter to his large frame; Molly put away the book she was reading and turned down the lights in the room before adjusting her place in Sherlock's arms, finally coming to a position in which both of them laid down on the comfortable bed facing each other with her cocooned in his arms.

They talked a little about the case he had just wrapped up, with him complaining about Anderson again (she detected a little tone of fondness for that man in his voice as he spoke, though, so that made her smile a little bigger), before they bid each other goodnight, Sherlock whispering into her ear that since she had the day off from work the next day, he had devious plans for the both of them that did not include leaving their bed; she snuggled into him after giving a kiss to his full lips and saying 'I love you'.

He did not say it back - having only said it once during their wedding night, then never again - but instead pressed her closer to him, enveloping her in his warmth and the scent she had grown accustomed to and was absolutely fond of; she had asked him, months before in a heated discussion with him, on why he never said 'I love you' back, to which he had grabbed at her arms and pulled her flush to him and whispered out his reply that to him, words were just words and actions always spoke louder than them - ever since then, Molly never minded him never saying those three words because Sherlock's actions clearly proved how much he felt for her, spoke of how much he truly loved her.

* * *

**_Stone Cold - Rainbow_**

Their argument was beginning to increase in volume and pitch; Molly felt hot tears running down her cheeks as the man before her stared back at her with hardened eyes.

"You know what, that's it!" she finally screamed; grabbing her purse on the coffee table with a hand, she roughly wiped at her tears with the back of another while she let out a ragged breath of disappointment and hurt and whispered, "I thought I knew you so well; I thought you promised me not to take anymore of this, but you did, and you're now high, and I can't believe I'm still in love with you after all this..."

Sherlock Holmes continued to stare back at her, his glassy eyes evident underneath the lighting of 221B.

"Leave, Molly."

At the cold tone he had used, Molly widened her eyes in shock and utter dismay; turning around, she pulled open the door and slammed it shut, making the other person flinch at the loud noise, head bowed down in shame over what he had done yet again to bring sorrow to everyone he had ever cared for.

* * *

**_Sister Christian - Night Ranger_**

Molly steeled herself and quickly took a glance upwards before looking back down; Sherlock was seated opposite her and damn if he was not looking really fine peering through the microscope with those long fingers of his operating its knobs.

She let out an inaudible sigh as she stared blankly at the paperwork before her; she had told him she was going to be doing her work here instead of being in the office ('just in case you wanted anything' she had added, to which she now cringed at the hopeful tone she had used when saying it) and now she wished she was back inside just so she could continue with her work and not get distracted by the perfection that was the man before her.

Oh, she knew he was not exactly 'perfect' material, what with callous tongue and sometimes oblivious behaviour a stark contrast to his his handsome looks and rich-boy poise, but Molly knew he was more than that.

His intellect and the fact that he was helping the police with their cases brought her in; despite all the deductions he made about people - all which were merely observations to him - and the quite rude way he dealt with the public, she knew Sherlock was more than that - more than the smart celebrity icon with a rude disposition a lot of people read about in the papers.

She knew, because the interactions she saw between him and his friend John, his landlady Mrs Hudson, and to the kids he told her once were part of what he called the Homeless Network made her constantly re-think that there was definitely more to the man everyone claimed there was no heart in him.

* * *

**_When Love and Hate Collide - Def Leppard_** (continuation of _Stone Cold_)

Sherlock had never, in his 38 years, imagined himself to be in this situation - him standing outside a woman's front door, about to beg for forgiveness; if anything, Sherlock Holmes never begged for anything - never had with The Woman, so why now with this woman?

Because he knew, deep inside, that she was worth begging for, worth begging to come back to him; he had missed her so much, that he was willing to admit to the world, to her.

Breathing deeply through his nose, he exhaled it slowly and raised a knuckle to Molly's front door, and was about to knock when he stopped; clenching the hand instead, he brought it down to his side as he leaned forward to rest his forehead heavily against the door frame.

It was draining his emotions - emotions he never thought he would ever have; arguing with her, calling her only to have the phone slammed down on him, her avoiding him whenever he sought her out in Bart's - it was draining him of his energy, so why was he even trying so hard?

Because he knew Molly was worth fighting for, and he had blown up everything they had painstakingly built between them - the trust, the connection, the love - by taking those damned drugs under the pretense of boredom; he was at the wrong, and for one of the very rare few times, he was trying to make things better, but would it change her mind?

* * *

_Bonus:_

_**Pour some sugar on me - Def Leppard**_

After a hard's day at work, Molly was greatly looking forward to going back home and flopping down on her warm comfy bed; Toby would require his night feeding, though, she belatedly remembered, so that meant feeding him before sleeping.

Reaching the door of her apartment, she unlocked it and pushed it open, turning back to lock it before flipping the light switch on.

She turned around, about to break into a yawn, when the sight before her made her want to choke on said yawn.

There, lounging with no shame towards his state of dress (or undress) on her couch with just a small piece of napkin covering his...ah, naughty bits, was Sherlock Holmes, lips smeared delectably with dark-coloured chocolate from a slice of chocolate cake noticeable on the coffee table, as he looked up at her from his position through the curls falling over his darkened eyes; his lips curled into a smirk at his girlfriend's wide-eyed stare as he rumbled out seductively, "You want to pour some sugar on me?"

"Sherlock, that chocolate cake I made is meant for Meena's cake-exchange party tomorrow evening!"


	5. Chapter 5

Don't mind me - just quietly going to post a new chapter on this small collection of drabbles with another five ficlets~

Thank you **ashlanielle**, **darthsydious**, **Rocking the Redhead** and **Empress of Verace** for still having the generosity to leave a review XD Been seeing you gals regularly so far, hullo! ^-^ Anyway, nothing much to say this time round (yay!) so I hope you enjoy reading this latest addition! :DDD

* * *

**_Children of the Damned - Iron Maiden_**

The nightmares - they still plagued his unconscious mind even after its horrors they were based upon had happened months ago.

Sherlock never failed to jolt upwards in his bed in the middle of the night, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead, as he attempted to slow down his breathing; he used to scream out his terror in the throes of the nightmare during the first few nights he came back from the dead, but now he had become accustomed to waking up with erratic breathing patterns and another one of those horrible images ingrained in his mind.

Rubbing his eyes, he slowly got out of his bed to make his way to the kitchen - maybe a glass of water would help him out.

Flashes of the reoccurring nightmare made themselves known in his mind's eye as he walked a little unsteadily to the kitchen - splotches of blood, high-pitched screams, painful groans, quiet pleadings to be saved from the pain they were feeling...

Sherlock slammed a hand on the metallic silver surface of the fridge when the faces his mind was seeing morphed into faces of the children tortured in front of their families to ensure said families' loyalty to the criminal network; his eyes clenched shut as he tightened his jaw and hands to fight and stop the change of these children's faces to those he was familiar with - John Watson, Mrs Hudson, DI Lestrade, Mycroft Holmes, Molly Hooper.

* * *

**_Where you going now - Damn Yankees_**

He knew he should not have gotten himself involved - Mycroft's words rang through his mind in a bored and slightly disappointed tone - for he knew it involved sentiment and emotions and feelings and everything he had strived to avoid for years - but then her smile crashed through his thoughts, its warmth dominating the walls of his Mind Palace; everywhere he looked, he saw her.

Just one little touch from her and he was unable to concentrate - was unable to recall all 243 types of tobacco ash he had kept in his memory; hell, it took him 20 seconds longer then it usually did to recall only 43 of them.

Barely hearing John's 'hey, where're you going?' when he stood up to don his recognisable Belstaff and wind his trademark blue scarf around his neck, Sherlock slipped on his black leather gloves and made his way to the door.

He was down the stairs and through the building's front door when he remembered to give a reply to his ever-worried flatmate; sending a quick message to the blond doctor, he stepped out onto the curb to hail a cab that appeared within milliseconds and entered it, determination etched in every line on his face.

_I am about to pay Miss Molly Hooper a visit and have a chat with her about love. - SH_

* * *

**_Chariots of Fire theme music_**

"This is the stupidest game I have ever heard of, Molly."

"Oh, come on, Sherlock - loosen up a bit!"

"Loosen up, as in moving in slow motion to this horrendously embarrassing music?"

"Why not - oh, you're worried you can't catch me even when we're running in slow motion, is that it?"

"You know what, let the games begin - I will always chase after and eventually catch what is mine."

* * *

**_How do I live - Trisha Yearwood_**

Another hard day at work ended and Molly Holmes pushed open the door of the home she shared with her husband, to be greeted with partial darkness - partial, because the light that was available in the darkened room emanated from the lit fireplace and the few candles scattered around the coffee table; near the window, gently illuminated by the light from the flames of both the fireplace and candles as well as the moonlight streaming through the window, stood Sherlock Holmes, clad in his signature blue dressing robe with his back facing her.

Molly slowly dropped her bag on the floor and was about to ask him what was happening when he raised the bow he was holding in his left hand and, sliding it across the violin now settled underneath his chin, began playing the opening bars of a song she knew all too well.

As he continued to play the gentle, sweet music to her, he turned around slowly to face her - without a hitch in rhythm and note, he made his way to her, the music gradually becoming louder, and, upon reaching her, played the chorus to her with strength.

They never broke contact as he played, Molly's eyes shining with unshed tears as the lyrics of the song sang through her mind in time with the tune and rhythm in which Sherlock was playing; she knew this song was a perfect example of how he felt for her, but the best way for him to convey it was through the only way he knew how - through his violin.

His playing eventually became softer as the song came to an end; he lowered down his violin, knowing that his wife understood what he was saying through his music, and bent down to press a soft kiss on her cheek, whispering to her in a voice full of love, "Happy 5th Anniversary, Molly Holmes."

* * *

**_Can't stand it - Never Shout Never_**

'Cute' and 'Sherlock' never fit together, but at this point in time, where Sherlock was negotiating with a child holding on to a kitten, with him kneeling on the grass in front of the child, and producing a pout when said child shook his head no, Molly could not help but bit her bottom lip to stop herself from grinning too wide.

"Edward, please - just this once?" Sherlock pleaded with his son, eyes wide with the pout still in place.

Edward shook his head again, seemingly clutching the poor kitten in his arms in a death grip, as he gave his father the exact copy of the pout, and whined slightly, "But Daddy, Misha wouldn't like it if you follow him everywhere; Mummy also said to say 'no' to you if you asked."

"Oh, Mummy said that, did she?" he echoed with a raised eyebrow, his head turning to the direction of his wife; he stood up and stalked his way to her, letting little Edward whisper to his kitten that everything was okay, Daddy would not be following him to the potty like he did with Toby, and run past his father and mother, through the back door of the kitchen and into the house.

Molly narrowed her eyes up at Sherlock, having heard the exchange, and was turning around to retreat back into the kitchen when Sherlock closed the back door with a hand, trapping his wife between himself and the door; he leaned in to graze his lips against her neck, greedily savouring the delicious shiver that ran through her small body, as he murmured into her ear, "So - Mummy has been disagreeable with Daddy, hmm?"


	6. Chapter 6

Hullo again! Okay, for this chapter, the songs I used here are not from my phone; I dunno, I thought of doing something a bit different *shrugs* It's still the same thing - five Sherlolly ficlets made from 5 (long) sentences inspired by the song :D (Also, I noticed that the songs here are all from female artists (except one which is a duo of a guy and gal but meh still counted) - WHO RUN THE WORLD? GIRLS!)

Thank you so much for reading what I've written so far, and to **khairunnisa**, **darthsydious**, **Empress of Verace**, **Renaissancebooklover108**, **Rocking the Redhead**, **vlad980**, **Kathmak**, **Rebekah Kroeplin** and **Guest** for taking the time to review! Thank you for giving this thing a chance and following it as well XD I hope you all will enjoy reading this next instalment (GIRL POWER!) :DDD

* * *

_**The Ting Tings - That's not my name**_

"Why are you here, George?"

DI Lestrade clenched his eyes tight and let out a long-suffering sigh before snapping his eyes open, directing the most intense glare he could manage at the arrogant consulting detective.

"I'm here to see Molly," he said through gritted teeth, and then cried out, "and for God's sake, Sherlock - will you ever get my name right in that massive thick skull of yours?!"

Sherlock growled slightly, narrowing his eyes with suspicion towards whatever reason on why the older man was there; Greg rolled his eyes and explained further in a frustrated voice, "I want to get to know her a bit better, Sherlock."

Sherlock huffed out loud and shook his head, giving Greg a devious smirk while lowering his voice down an octave, "No one will 'get to know' my pathologist 'a bit better' other than me, and I will never allow anyone else to do so on my behalf, Graham."

* * *

**_Beyoncé - Single Ladies_**

Molly Hooper was feeling a little awkward in the dance party she was unknowingly invited by Meena - she had resisted, but the nurse told her to lighten up, that she really needed to finally 'get out there' and bring home a man because apparently she was not getting any younger.

Molly had had enough with the loud music - she was about to call it quits and head over to Meena, to tell her that although she appreciated the invite, dancing just was not her thing, when someone tapped her on the shoulder.

She turned to the person, an exasperated expression in place, and her eyes immediately widened at how handsome the person was.

"Been watching you from afar for the past few minutes," the hot stranger said with a smile, eyes twinkling with mirth as he continued, "and you seem alone for the time being - care to allow me to relief you of boredom with a dance?"

Blinking her eyes in disbelief, Molly nodded soundlessly and allowed the handsome stranger to pull her to the dancing floor, and soon she was having fun dancing next to him; unbeknownst to her, another certain handsome guy had been watching her for the whole hour she was there, and his eyes flashed with possessiveness when he saw his pathologist willingly agreeing to a dance with that imbecile - no one will take her away, he thought as he straightened his coat to finally reveal himself to her from the corner.

* * *

**_Lady Gaga - Poker Face_**

Sherlock narrowed his eyes at the way Molly, seated at the dining table, was slowly tugging at the collar of the shirt - his shirt, he corrected brazenly in his mind - she was only wearing at that point, and letting out a long soft sigh as she crossed one leg over the other, exposing more of her pale thighs to his hungry eyes.

"Sherlock, it's getting kind of hot in here, don't you think?" she asked, turning her head to face him, her expression never betraying the amusement she was feeling inside at the reaction she was eliciting from the supposedly stoic man, who could be seen swallowing hard, his Adam's apple bobbing at his throat.

"What do you suggest we, ah, do...?" Damn his stuttering - Molly hardly ever had this damnable effect on him, but when she did...

"Oh, I thought we could just...chill in the tub or something," she said nonchalantly, her eyes now brought down to inspect her nails and to pick at them, and adding with a playful tone of voice, "you do have a rather large bathtub for a man now living alone, so I thought why not make the most out of it...?"

Without any other orders, Sherlock sprang out of his armchair and dashed to the direction of the bathroom, with Molly hearing the running water less than two seconds later; she giggled as she stood up to make her way to the bathroom as well, quickly schooling her face into one of indifference when she arrived at the door.

* * *

**_The Pointer Sisters - I'm so excited_**

"So, tonight's the night," Molly said breathlessly as she sat at the edge of the large king-sized bed in her bathrobe, not believing that the day had ended and the night had finally come - the wedding night.

"Oh - tonight's the night, indeed," Sherlock smirked as he stared at his bride with smouldering eyes.

He immediately made his way to her and stood infront of her in a position where her legs are inbetween his and leaned in, stroking her face with a long finger and slowly sliding it down her cheek.

"I'm so excited!"

Halting in his movements, Sherlock stared at her with a raised eyebrow, making her flush deep red in embarrassment; not wanting his bride to be ashamed of anything, he chuckled to release the awkward air in the room and gently pushed her back on the bed, adjusting her so that he was now comfortably hovering above her, and leaned in to whisper seductively in her ear, "Oh, I'm so excited as well, Mrs Holmes."

* * *

**_Whitney Houston - I will always love you_**

Molly Hooper averted her gaze from the piercing sea-green eyes of the man standing before her, her own eyes at the verge of betraying her emotions; she tried on a smile as she continued to tell him the reason she was there, standing on the steps of 221B Baker Street, her luggage in the cab waiting for her behind.

"So yeah, I'll be moving; I handed in my resignation letter to Mike, and I said goodbye to all of them at the hospital - they said they'll miss my morbid jokes, haha! - and I told Mrs Hudson next and had one last cup of tea with her - gonna be missing her gossips, that's for sure - and John and Mary, we had dinner last night - oh, I'm so going to miss Mrs Watson's steak, they're just that fabulous - but Greg couldn't find a date to meet with me so I sent him a text, and Mycroft even gave me a call to wish me luck in my new life - wow, never expected him to-"

"Stay, please."

Tears now flowed freely down her cheeks, the dam having been broken at those soft words, as she looked up through blurry eyes, and she had to choke back the sob that was threatening to erupt from her small body at the expression Sherlock was wearing, was looking at her with - she had never seen such a more heartbreaking, pleading, sorrowful expression than the one he was giving her at that moment.

She let him see the tears she was shedding for him, because after all this time, after everything she had experienced with him - the good, the bad, especially the unrequited love - all her tears were for him, forever and always; finally she shook her head slowly and leaned up to press her first and final kiss on the cheek of his sweet, sad face, whispering out her words to him with ragged breath, "Goodbye, Sherlock Holmes."


	7. Chapter 7

I'm sorry I didn't put in a new chapter for about two days (and I was seriously hoping this would be a chapter-a-day story :c), so let me tell you the reason for a moment; again, I wanted to do something different today (sorry) and based on five songs that I chose from my playlist, I would write an AU ficlet (drabble?) for each :3 The AUs are as followed, in order: Vampire, Werewolf, Hired Men, Zombies and Criminals. I thought about this idea two to three days ago, and finished up the Vampire one immediately, but I had trouble thinking up for the Werewolf AU, and got stuck in it for about two days :/ I worked during the weekends as well, so I didn't had that much time to think about it. But I managed to do a ficlet on it at last, and the rest of the songs' ficlets followed kind of easily - I just finished the last three today, in fact ^-^

Again, thank you to** Rocking the Redhead**, **darthsydious**, **Empress of Verace**, **Renaissancebooklover108**, **khairunnisa** and **LadyK1138** for taking the time to review - I am so happy you liked the last song's ficlet because I think it's one of the better ones I've written, cos after finally listening to the whole song while reading its lyrics, my eyes turned red and puffy (no joke ; ~ ;). It's now 3.30am, however, so please excuse me for not replying to your reviews after this - I'll do so after I get some sleep ~

All of these AUs are actually my first awkward stab at them (the only AUs I use to do is kid!lock, teen!lock and cat!lock -) so please forgive me if I made glaring mistakes in my attempts at these AUs. Also, I should stop babbling now and go to sleep, so yeah...and I hope you enjoy reading this! :DDD

* * *

_**Waiting for darkness - Ozzy Osbourne**_ _(Vampire!AU)_

Molly's eyes widened in fear as she took a step back, her back hitting the bricked wall of the dark alleyway; she should not have taken this path, she thought belatedly, as she stared at the tall figure before her - she should have believed that bad things would always lurk in the dark.

And the man before her was an example of said bad things - in fact, after he had revealed to him what he really was, teeth bared and fangs protruding as evidence, she doubted he could even be considered as a 'man'.

"I have been deceived by your uncle," the darkened form before her spoke once more, and Molly could not help the shiver that ran down her spine at how deep the baritone of a voice he had as he continued, taking slow steps towards her, "and he has broken his promise - I have been watching his habits behind the curtains of the night, and have found out that he has a pressure point."

"And what's-what's that? His pressure point - what is it?" Molly would have patted herself on the back at how she had the courage to speak up to the intimidating man - thing - but when his face was finally in full view, his facial structure and high cheekbones highlighted by the moonlight, she delayed the congratulations at the look he was giving her.

He crowded her against the wall, she not willing to move anywhere in fear of her throat being ripped off by him (because those fangs definitely did not look small nor weak), and he leaned in, loudly breathing in the scent of her at the side of her neck; he turned his head to whisper darkly in her ear, causing her to give that shiver again as he murmured, "You."

* * *

_**Animal - Def Leppard **(Werewolf!AU)_

For anyone who was fortunate (or unfortunate) enough to know Sherlock Holmes, it would have been a whirlwind of a ride - a brilliant consulting detective by day, a protective lycanthrope by night.

Anyone who knew him could tell that he mostly turned into his wolf form to protect the ones he deemed important in his life - some nights, he would turn to help the police hunt and catch criminals for he was more agile and quicker then.

Anyone who knew him behind closed doors, however, were annoyed by the fact that sometimes he brought over his animalistic side when in human form - John and Lestrade were constantly growled at when they disagreed with whatever Sherlock wanted, and Mrs Hudson tried not to pat him on the head too much in the rare occasion that he apologise for ruining her furniture because the few times she did, he never stopped pestering her the whole day to pat him one more time.

Molly was quite okay with him showing off his animalistic side to her whenever he popped by the lab or morgue for a case or an experiment; she found it amusing that he would be that unselfconscious to the point where he would openly whine at her with puppy-dog eyes in the few times she tried to resist his requests, and a tiny bit arousing whenever she saw his sea-green eyes darkened to the black colour of his wolf's counterpart with a feral grin on his face when he finally found the missing piece or had solved the case.

She was also quite okay with him showing off his animalistic side to her when he came barging in to her home at nights he claimed were boring as if he owned it - some of these nights were when Molly could see how Sherlock the human and Sherlock the wolf fused together perfectly in a single vessel of life as he gently held her close to his taut sculpted body while marking her as his on her neck with his mouth.

* * *

_**A-Team theme song** (Hired Men!AU)_

"Mycroft has another job for us?" John asked as he wiped his wet hands on a napkin, his wife Mary standing beside him at the dining table helping Molly set the cutlery for dinner.

"He had better not put me with the TNTs again," Greg shouted across the sitting room to where Sherlock was seated at the other corner of the large room, with the latter rolling his eyes as the grey-haired man continued complaining, "That bastard knows it's not my division, yet he dared to risk me with those explosives!"

John guffawed out loud at his friend; he could understand his frustration because the first time Greg dealt with bombs, it exploded much earlier than expected, forcing the team to quickly improvise while on the job and use Plan B - ever since then, the older man would quickly push the explosives to Molly, who was more attentive and less likely to freak out when a bomb, fake or not, was placed in her hands.

Sherlock shook his head and chuckled along as well, reminiscing that unfortunate time, before standing up and making his way to the kitchen, with Greg following as well, when the two women called out that dinner was ready; John took his seat beside his wife and Greg beside Molly while Sherlock sat at the end of the table.

Stapling his hands together as he regarded his team of specialists, he grinned as he spoke in a slightly enthusiastic voice, "The case has proven to be quite promising, and I guarantee that Mycroft has made the right choice in calling us in for it.

* * *

_**You and Me - The Last of Us soundtrack **(Zombies!AU)_

Sherlock looked out stonily into the sunset, its yellow-orange hue slowly fading away to make way to the dark purple and eventual blackness of the night; he absentmindedly poked at the burning firewood in front of him with a twig as he sat in a contemplative silence.

Molly came back from gathering more wood for the fire and collecting drinkable water from the nearby stream - she put the stack of wood down by Sherlock's right side and poured the stream water into their flasks, setting the excess down on the ground before handing his flask to him.

"Here, Sherlock," she whispered, knowing that although he was currently not in his Mind Palace so thus was able to hear her perfectly clear, she did not feel it appropriate to talk loudly in his presence for now; she lightly shook his flask in her hand to indicate him to take it as she added, "you need to drink."

"What is the use of staying alive when we're going to die in this wretched world anyway?" Sherlock suddenly asked, ignoring her request and turning his head to look at Molly; her heart threatened to break in her chest at how lost and despondent his expression was, at how the man, who used to have a purpose in Life - helping put criminals behind bars and protecting the people he cared about - but was now an empty shell of his former self, no longer saw the reason to even continue staying alive, not after his other friends and own family were lost to the creatures that were the cause of society's fall.

Molly held back the tears that begged to fall over her eyes as she put down the flask and raised her right hand to cradle his left cheek, and Sherlock responded by leaning into the comfort that small warm hand gave him amidst the chaos and violence the world had become; she whispered to him in a slightly broken voice, doing her best to keep the emotions at bay, as she tried to convince him with her words, "Because we're fighting for the chance to be able to see each other again with this one life that we're given - I want to spend as much time as I can with you in this Life, despite what's happening, because I know that at any point in time I can take my last breath, and I want you to know that, while I'm here, you're never alone."

* * *

_**Breaking the law - Judas Priest **(Criminals!AU)_

"Sherlock Holmes!" DI Molly Hooper shouted after she kicked the door open, her gun extended in front of her body as she swept it round the room, trying to find that elusive criminal through the darkness of the room; she knew she should call for backup - get Mary and Sally or either one to be by her side as she took this man down - but they had just captured two of Holmes' right men, John Watson and Greg Lestrade, and she was not going to take any chances at leaving them in the supervision of the juniors and constables that were deployed for this mission.

"I know you are in here, Holmes," she shouted once more, taking a step in, "and I am not afraid to use this to disable you if you decide to take the piss on me and come jumping out!"

Sweeping the length of the room once more with her eyes now more adjusted to the dark, Molly took another small step forward; she knew that bastard was in here somewhere, if his tall lean figure running in to this room and locking it were anything to go by, and she had no intentions of leaving this place without the famous Sherlock Holmes in tow - alive or dead.

Just when she decided to take to the walls to shuffle across them in a more discreet manner of searching, the door behind her slammed shut; whereas Molly had the light seep through the room to give a little illumination, she was plunged into complete darkness now - she was about to crouch down and feel her way to the walls for support and balance when a strong arm wrapped itself around her neck and a large hand captured both her wrists in it, with the owner of said hand twisting her wrists and causing her to let go in pain.

She felt a firm body at her back as she was led forward, her whole body finally pressed against a wall with her head turned to one side, her right cheek feeling the rough texture of the wallpaper of the room; she heard a wisp of breath pass through her left ear a second later and a deep voice rumbled near it after that, the voice unmistakably belonging to Sherlock Holmes as he murmured, "Calling me a criminal when you yourself have done a bit of a crime - such a hypocrite, aren't you - the woman who stole my heart?"


	8. Chapter 8

It's been a long while since I last updated this, I'm sorry ._. School has started and we're in our third week, but instead of me being asleep, I had just decided on a whim to write five new ficlets at 1am; an hour later and here's the new chapter! But I think I'm going to be so screwed tomorrow cos I have lessons from 8am to 4pm and band practice from 6.30pm to 9.30pm *sigh* Better stock myself on them Red Bulls, then...

Anyway, I decided on a whim as well that I shall write these five ficlets that are all inspired by Journey, that American rock band with its most famous song 'Don't stop Believin''. Journey is one of the bands which I listened to the whole CD of since I was young, so I love almost all their songs~ ^-^

Thank you **Empress of Verace**,** superwholockian7437**,** Rocking the Redhead**,** Rebekah Kroeplin**,** Truly Sherlockian**,** MagicalNinja**,** Stuck-In-221B**,** khairunnisa **and** LadyK1138** for the reviews, but I apologise for not replying to them like I did, I'm sorry ; - ; And I'd better stop rambling again and go to sleep. Still, I hope you will enjoy what I've got for each song as much as you enjoy the song itself, if you listened to Journey before :) :DDD

* * *

_**I'll be alright without you**_

She never did foresee the breakup - one moment, she was having the time of her life with the man she had been in love with for so long, and the next she made her way back to her empty apartment, tears streaking down her cheeks.

It was weeks later - more like 2 months - before she saw him in the flesh again; both of them had managed to avoid each other the whole time, despite her working in the one place he required to visit if he ever wanted to solve the murders Scotland Yard consulted him with.

Seeing him all cleaned up nice and neat while whispering to DI Lestrade made her heart ache; it was unfair, to see him be all...normal, while she was an emotional mess inside, even after 2 months.

She never considered herself to be a clingy kind of person, but looking at the one man she had given her heart to countless of time threatened the tears to fall because why - why was he not hers, when she would gladly do anything to be his?

Molly looked down at her clipboard when she sensed that Sherlock was about to turn his head to her direction; despite what had happened, there was one thing she was that would never change - she was an optimistic person, and she would be alright without him, eventually.

* * *

_**Faithfully**_

Numb - that was what Sherlock was feeling as he entered his temporary bolthole, eyes drooping with fatigue and body aching with the need to rest after another long day of chasing leads that went nowhere; he felt too much during his mission - so many emotions he had strived so hard not to feel before this - that he was numb to them.

As he fell onto the bed, it creaked upon impact, and he wished, not more than once, that he was back in Baker Street, and not as a dead, disgraced detective.

Thinking about home made the heart he kept well hidden ache, for if the information gathered about his extended family by Mycroft were true, then everyone was moving on - everyone would most likely be leaving him behind, leaving him as nothing more than a memory in their minds.

He doubted that what information his older brother had relayed to him - about John being in a serious relationship with a woman which he suspected would finally lead to a marriage between them, about Mrs Hudson contemplating the idea of selling 221B and moving to live near her family, about Lestrade expressing his intentions on resigning as Detective Inspector of Scotland Yard - were lies, for as much as the Holmes brothers bickered and disagreed with each other, they would never try to hurt each other at times of crisis, either physically or emotionally.

Mycroft left the best for the last, however; Sherlock saw a small wry smile on his brother's lips as he told him of how Molly was still a pathologist in St Bart's despite having been given a better position outside of the country, of how she was keeping her head held high in spite of the heavy secret she had to shoulder, of how she made it a point not to respond to any flirtations from the male staff - she was keeping her word, Sherlock thought with no small amount of pride and gratitude, when she said she would stand by him, and when he got back, he would be forever hers.

* * *

_**Don't stop believin' **(teen!lock AU)_

Molly sighed and bowed her head as she passed by a group of snickering guys whose gazes were trained on her, muttering things about 'weird' and 'necrophilia'.

Seriously, was it still really that much of a taboo for a female to be a pathologist at this time and age?

Because her eyes were on the ground instead of being straight in front of her, she bumped rather violently into a broad and firm chest; gasping when the impact caused her to lose grip on the books she was holding on to her own chest, she quickly knelt down to grab them back, all the while her cheeks burning with embarrassment.

A hand came into her line of view and its fingers wrapped around her notes on decomposition; before she could made a quick swipe of it back, a pressure on her chin made her unconsciously obey its intentions of lifting her head up, and she was soon gazing into a pair of hypnotic blue eyes with green and golden flecks in them.

"Ignore those stupid imbeciles - when I become my own detective, I will require the expertise of a pathologist to help me out in my cases, and I see that you shall be perfect for the job."

* * *

**_When you love a woman_**

Standing in front of an initially small party of a few close friends that exploded into almost fifty people - courtesy of the intervention of Mummy - Sherlock Holmes watched the person right before his eyes as she looked back at him with a small smile, her hazel eyes full of love, affection and reverence directed at no one but him.

If anyone were to tell him 10 years ago that one day he would be standing in front of a bunch of people he did not recognise and start a new, very sentimental, chapter in his life, he would snort out loud and tell him to stop consulting the 'gypsy' because it was definitely one of the most ridiculous things he had ever heard, and that was saying something.

But he was not snorting out loud now - no way would he do that anyway, he thought as he continued to gaze at the beautiful woman before him.

Both of them were not paying attention to what the man was talking about - they did say out their required lines at the appropriate time, however - for their attentions were solely focused one each other; he cannot wait to share this new phase of his life with the one person who mattered to him the most, the one where he saw his world in her eyes.

"With the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife - you may now kiss your bride."

* * *

**_Open arms_**

Feeling the warm body beside him, Sherlock tightened his grip around Molly and curled himself even more around her; the movement caused her to drift slowly into consciousness, though, and she turned her head to look at him over her shoulder, eyes barely even opened due to her sleepiness.

"Is- is anything the matter, Sherlock?" she asked drowsily, letting out a soft yawn which she covered with a small hand.

"Nothing," he replied as he buried his head into her neck and breathed in her womanly scent - a hint of apricot, vanilla, and Molly.

She nodded, seemingly accepting his answer for now, and snuggled back into his broad chest currently not hidden behind those tight dress shirts he was extremely fond of.

There were many mistakes Sherlock had made over the years of living on this Earth, that much he would admit, but the biggest mistake he had made thus far was to throw the affection, adoration, the love Molly held for him back at her with his callous, insensitive, disgusting words - she had nodded her head, eyes brimming with tears but they never did fall over to her cheeks, and left without so much as a whimper; he realised his mistake and ran after her, and for the first time he begged - he begged for her to forgive him, and here they were, with her once again accepting who he was with open arms and him doing his best to get her to see what her love meant and would always mean to him.


	9. Chapter 9

Hello, umm, it's been some time after I gave this thing a new chapter, but yesterday I was listening to my music and was inspired, so I've decided to add in another chapter :)

I'm sorry to make this brief - because oh my God I need to leave the house like now! - but just a quick thank you to **SammyKatz**, **Rocking the Redhead**, **Empress of Verace** and **Justonestory** for reviewing; and I need to leave now omg, but I hope you still enjoy reading this :DDD

* * *

_**Send her my love - Journey**_

Sherlock Holmes watched the man nod to his friend in goodbye as he entered the grocery store; the former slowly trailed Tom as the latter went about his business buying...domestic items.

As Tom made the decision to pick which brand of cereal from the two he was holding in both hands, Sherlock could not wait any longer and decided to accidentally bump into him at that time; Tom let out a gasp of surprise as he dropped the cereal box he was holding in his left hand, and was about to bend down to pick it up when Sherlock passed it to him.

Tom smiled at him and made small talk, mostly talking about Sherlock's cases that were publicised in the papers, before Sherlock slowly steered the conversation to the reason he was even here talking to this man.

Tom talked about how stressed Molly was in her new job, and that he was thinking of making a nice dinner that night for his fiancée; he did not see the downcast look Sherlock was wearing, about the way the consulting detective was recalling the last time he saw Molly - her silent tears were deep stabs to his 'non-existent' heart for Molly had never cried in the aftermath of his continuously callous and careless words, but that night she had finally let go of him.

Tom was not close to finishing what he was saying when Sherlock stopped him with a hand to his face; Sherlock nodded his head in goodbye as he left, not without mumbling to Tom, and the words having been heard by the other man, "Just...send her my love when you get home."

* * *

_**Perfect strangers - Deep Purple**_

She had been seeing him hanging around her building - the man with a cap pulled down to hide his eyes, his large brown coat covering the whole length of him - but rather than being terrified, Molly was unafraid of the man, and took comfort in the fact that he was here despite what he was going through.

Molly saw him linger in the alleyway of her building the other day, leaning against the bricked wall, when she walked past him, and as she made her way to St Bart's for her afternoon shift she felt him following her behind; she soon reached the hospital and as she turned back to see the man, she could only get a glimpse of his retreating back.

More than once had she caught herself wondering about him - was he doing okay, had everything he and his brother planned went without a hitch; when would he be ready to come back to life, so to speak.

Sherlock Holmes had always been a busy man, but he was unfortunately made even busier after his apparent suicide - one tend to be busy, after all, if one had to go undercover to take down and dismantle a criminal network from the inside out.

Before he left for his mission, he had told her to never fear a man wearing a cap paired up with a brown coat who would occasionally linger around her building for that would be him, making sure that as he did harm to the network, none of the harm would be led back to her or any of the people he was trying to protect - he had told her they would be complete strangers after he finally left for his mission, but before he did so, he gave her one gentle farewell kiss as Sherlock Holmes, whispering to her that he would be back for them all, and implored her to just wait for him.

* * *

**_Two steps behind - Extreme_**

Molly watched the brilliant man in front of her as he spewed deduction after amazing deduction about the murderer's physical and some psychological traits to DI Lestrade, all from looking at the corpse laid down on the morgue slab.

As the DI left the morgue with the evidence, Sherlock turned to her and nodded his head to her, indicating that he would now proceed to the laboratory up a floor, and turned to the exit with a swish of his gigantic coat, one she had had the pleasure of wearing in that one time they were-

Molly blushed furiously as she stared at Mr Greenfield on the slab, knowing the dead man could not read her innermost thoughts, but still.

After helping the man with his fake suicide almost three years ago, with him coming back to life in a comeback worthy of an action movie, with everything that came after that - John and Mary's marriage, the drugs episode, Jim's supposed return that Sherlock solved in a matter of days - Molly found that she was a friend of Sherlock Holmes, and this she did not say just because she thought of it; the man himself said so, one night when they were both alone in the lab.

Molly had given him a small and sweet smile when he told her that he was grateful for her constant help, no matter how much of a dick he had been to her in the past, and she shrugged it off, saying that she would always be there for him, would always be two steps behind him just in case he needed reassurance that as he moved forward in his life, he would always have someone looking after his back - because she had her head bowed down to hide her blushing face, she did not see his own lips forming a small smile at her words and the way he gazed at her with admiration.

* * *

_**Hit me with your best shot - Pat Benatar**_

Molly stood with her head held high, eyes bravely meeting those of the much taller man standing before her; whilst her stance suggested that she would gladly beat him up if he dared to speak, Sherlock was utterly languid in his own body language - he had his hands in his coat pockets as he tilted his head downwards towards the enraged petite woman, his expression one of blatant amusement.

"Do not smile, William Sherlock Scott Holmes!" Molly half-shouted when his lips twitched upwards, eager to turn into a full-blown smirk.

"You have, for countless of times, ruined my dates, for whatever reason I have no friggin' idea even now, with your never-ending deductions of their trivial flaws - but this time I will go out with Derek, and there's nothing that you say that will stop me; I have had enough with you breaking things up with my dates without you even having talked to them!"

As Molly glared up at him, she let out a huff at his seemingly uninterested expression to what she was saying, and finally gave in to the urge to issue him a challenge, "You know what, hit me with your best shot - tell me one very good, impossible-to-refute reason why I should not date Derek."

Sherlock straightened himself at her words then, his hand removing themselves from his coat pockets and him pointedly looking down to her, and the woman looked back up at him in wonder, secretly pleased that he was taking her challenge seriously; her wonder was short-lived, though, when he suddenly took a giant step towards her and leaned his head forward, enveloping her in his scent - his mouth hovered near her left ear and he took a moment to savour the involuntary shiver he had managed to elicit from her before he whispered, low and possessive, "It's because you should be dating me instead."

* * *

_**You raise me up - Josh Groban**_

_Baker Street, one hour. I have something worth passing to you. - SH_

The limousine stopped right in front of the building and Mycroft Holmes stepped out of the vehicle; he dutifully knocked at the front door with a hand, his trustworthy black umbrella held in the other, and Mrs Hudson answered with a smile on her face.

She ushered him up to where Sherlock lived, but instead of Dr John Watson being his flatmate this time round, it was Mrs Molly Holmes née Hooper - the woman herself, with a gentle smile when she saw him, was the one to grant him entrance to his brother's warm abode, made even more homely with Molly's personal items next to his own.

Before Mycroft could open his mouth to ask what in the world was happening, Sherlock stood up from his seat and walked over to him - he shoved a rather large gift box into the older man's free hand, and Mycroft raised a questioning eyebrow at him, who rolled his eyes in return, before leaning his umbrella against the door and unselfconsciously unwrapping the gift; his eyes widened at the item he saw before him - a pirate's hat made out of paper - and as Mycroft took out a piece of paper in the box to read it, he felt something...warm bubble in his chest.

_There are many things I have deleted or removed from my Mind Palace due to the majority of them being useless and irrelevant to my life; one of the things I have neither delete nor remove, though, is our time together while playing pirates during our adolescent period - where you taught me the language they speak and you answered my questions on why no one wanted to play with me - because no matter how much time has passed inbetween, it has never been useless nor irrelevant to my life - Happy Birthday, big brother mine._


End file.
